The Princess of Mirkwood
by Skylark C
Summary: Nemlas is the younger twin of Legolas, and Princess of Mirkwood. She travels with her brother and volunteers to destroy the Ring, and goes along with the Fellowship. She will discover things about her unknown mother that will strike her and her twin hard. In the end, the hardest problem to conquer, won't be about the Ring...
1. Chapter 1: Journey

We ride quickly through the forest. My twin Legolas and I have been sent by our father, Thranduil to go to the council of Elrond.

I for one have never been in much favor of politics, and I would rather have been born of another mother, than the one I have, but then again, no one knows who our mother is. For all I know, she might not even be an elf.

I look around and see the forest beginning to thin out. The light brightens as we ride out of Mirkwood. I see a river a head and then in the distance the Misty Mountains, where we have to travel through to get to Elrond.

After riding on horseback through the mountains for a day, we come out of a pass to see Rivendell. The beautiful buildings take my breath away. The waterfalls behind it seem so beautiful.

We ride over the bridge to see the elves living there, peacefully, most not thinking about the problems about to be discussed.

I see that a few men have just arrived by horseback and watch as a few dwarves arrive right after us. I give a small sneer at the dwarves, but they don't notice.

We are welcomed right into Rivendell and I wander around, waiting for the council to take place tomorrow.

Later that night, I come across a mural on the wall of a man taking on Sauron. I turn around to see the shards of a sword in a shallow basin. I notice Aragorn sitting off to the side, with a book, and a man I saw arrive earlier today comes up behind me.

I acknowledge their presence and proceed to examine the sword. I remember a story I once heard about the downfall of Sauron and realize the sword is Narsil, the sword that was once held by Elendil and his son, Isildur.

The man who came after me comes over and picks up the handle. I scowl at him, but he ignores me, as such men of noble families do to women. He touches the blade and accidentally cuts himself, the idiot.

He drops the handle and goes away. Aragorn comes quickly over and picks the handle up, placing it delicately back in the basin with the rest of the sword. I smile, knowing that even though this sword should come to his ownership, he takes notice of it but doesn't want it. Just as I am heir to the throne of the woodland realm (after my brother of course) but I do not wish to be the heir and care nothing for politics.

I continue my evening wanderings and by the morning, I almost forget the moment with the men and Narsil.


	2. Chapter 2: From Council to Fellowship

(A/N: Just so you know, this is my first story, so I'm still getting used to this site, especially compared to Quotev (where I've been working before), so… ON WITH THE SHOW!) 

Chapter 2: From Council to Fellowship  


I sit next to Legolas as the council comes to order. The others chat in a friendly manner as we all wait for Elrond to come. I just sit silently, looking at the group of people who have gathered. Surprisingly, the elves and dwarves haven't started an all out war between each other, yet.

Elrond brings the council to order saying, "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will all fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo, a young hobbit, stands up and places a small gold ring on the stone pillar in the center of the room. Many people start to whisper about it. I look to my brother to see him staring at me. It's scary how much we look alike in times like this.

The man who was messing with Narsil the other night, Boromir, says, "So it is true." He stands up and goes to the pillar with the Ring. Muttering something under his breath while he reaches for the Ring.

"Boromir!" Elrond intervenes on his new relationship with the Ring.

While he says this, Gandalf starts speaking, "Ash nazg durbatulûk. Ash nazg gimbatul; ash nazg thratulûk…" I close my eyes and try to shut out the sound. When I do open them after Gandalf stops, Elrond has his head on his hand and Boromir had backed away.

Elrond doesn't seem glad. "Never before has any tongue uttered those words in Imaldris."

Gandalf got up and leaned against his staff, "I beg your pardon, Master Elrond. For soon the black speech of Mordor may be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil."

"It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring to our advantage?" Boromir tells us.

I shake my head; men are the most subject to the Ring.

"Long has my father, the steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, your lands are kept safe," he boasts. I frown; it is highly unlikely that Gondor has ever held Mordor at bay single-handedly. He continues, "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no master," Aragorn argues.

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asks of Aragorn.

Legolas stands up and says, "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathron. You owe him your allegiance."

This seems to have shocked Boromir somewhat. "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

I stand as well, "And heir to the throne of Gondor."

"_Sit down Legolas! Sit down Nemlas!_" Aragorn says in elvish. I reluctantly sit down, but only on the edge of my seat.

Then Boromir says, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." That is almost past the edge: no matter what the idiot thinks, his father is nothing compared to a king.

Gandalf comes in to help us, "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it."

Elrond stands up, "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."

Gimli, one of the dwarves, stands up with his ax and says, "What are we waiting for?" He swings his ax down on the Ring, but the ax was destroyed, and nothing happened to the Ring at all. The pieces of the ax had flown out from the pillar (where Gimli is) and I think at least one has embedded itself into the tree behind Elrond.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mt. Doom. Only there can it be unmade," Gandalf tells Gimli.

Elrond says, "It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from which it was made. One of you must do this."

Then Boromir speaks up again, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that doesn't sleep. The great eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with a thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

At this, my brother stands up again, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

Gimli says to Legolas, "And you think you can do it!"

Boromir comes back as well, "And if we fail, what happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I'll be dead before I see that Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli says.

The elves and dwarves all stand up to get into the conflict. Legolas holds his hands out to keep the other elves –especially me- from physically fighting them.

From this all hell breaks loose. The men, dwarves, Legolas and I all go into a verbal fight over who should take the Ring.

Though it doesn't seem like it to many of the people of the council, I am a woman, and women are usually excluded from this kind of matter. I nominate myself and of course, all of the others in the fight want to take in themselves for the job.

I just barely hear it, but over the midst of the shouting, I hear Frodo say, "I will take it," as he stands up.

I just barely hear him over the shouting, but no one else did.

Frodo keeps trying to get our attention, "I will take it."

Finally we all quiet down so we can hear the hobbit properly.

Frodo says, "I will take the Ring to Mordor," he pauses, "though I do not know the way."

"I will help you to bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," Gandalf says.

Aragorn stands up and says, "If by life or death I can protect you… I will." He walks over to Frodo and kneels. "You have my sword."

"You have my bow," Legolas and I say at the same time, when we walk over.

"And my ax," Gimli says a second after we speak. I wonder why he said that, as his ax broke when he foolishly tried to destroy the Ring with it.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done," Boromir says.

"Hey!" We all look over to see a hobbit run to Frodo's side. "Mr. Frodo isn't going anywhere without me."

Elrond says, a bit amused at first, "It's not possible to separate you, even when he's summoned to a secret council and you're not."

Then all of a sudden, two more hobbits run to Frodo's side. "We're coming too! You'll have to tie us up in a sack to stop us," the first of the last two says. Elrond seems surprised at all the hobbits that are now surrounding Frodo.

"Anyway, you'll need people of intelligence for this sort of journey… quest… thing." The other hobbit says.

"Well in that case, that rules you out Pip," the first hobbit says quietly to the other one who must be Pip.

Elrond says, "Ten companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great," the Pip says, "Where are we going?" I roll my eyes at his stupidity.


	3. Chapter 3: Waiting to Leave

**(A/N: Sorry for the long wait. School and the rest of regular life has been keeping me from updating. By the way, The Battle of Five Armies was amazing! I've finally finished with diplomacy with Fanfiction so here's the new chapter.)**

I found that we would be leaving tomorrow and I just can't find a way to keep myself occupied. And of course this is why I would either go hunt or somehow get into some form of trouble back home.

I climb up to the top of a tree and pull out my bow and arrows. I notch an arrow and aim right at the eye of a bird in another tree.

The arrow flies to its target and hits it dead on. I jump down and race over. I pick up the bird and pull the arrow out.

It seems like such a waste to hunt something, but not to have it be used in a way.

I walk over to the waterfall and set the bird gracefully down into the water. It floats slowly down stream until it's out of sight.

I dip my arrow into the water to clean it when I hear a snap of a twig behind me. I notch an arrow just in case and turn around. It's Aragorn.

"I didn't realize you were such a good shot, for a woman," he says and sits down.

I shrug, "I'm surprised you snuck that far up behind me. Yes you did break a twig right behind me but the fact that you made it that far without me hearing you is amazing considering I'm an elf."

"Well I _am_ a ranger," he says humorously.

"I've seen how you act around Arwen. You are in love with her," I tell him. He nods, so he must be in love with her.

I put the arrow I had been cleaning back into my quiver and stand up. "You know, Aragorn if you want, I could spar with you. Most of the other elves don't fight with a sword like I do."

"I accept your offer, and I will meet you in an hour," Aragorn says then walks away.

I pace while waiting for Aragorn to come. I left my bow and arrows in my room and now I have my handcrafted sword of my own making strapped at my side.

I pull it out of the scabbard and look at the piece of metal I made a few hundred years ago: Vornalda. The silver blade is etched with gold and the large handle fits both hands when I need to and only one as well.

"That's a well made sword, Nemlas," I hear Aragorn say as he comes over. His sword is strapped to his side and has a wide handle.

"Yes, I made it myself many years ago."

"No time to chat. Let's start," Aragorn says then takes his sword out of its sheath. It glints silver in the light.

I look at my own sword. It gives off a dark feeling, but that is why I named it dark tree. The darkness of Mirkwood lives in its blade, and it will strike fear into the enemy.

Aragorn is a good swordsman and the duel ends in a stalemate. We both have a blade to our neck in the end. I smile; we are evenly matched.

"Well done, Aragorn. Not many people can match me in a duel. I killed many in the Battle of Five Armies, sixty years ago," I tell him.

"I can see that," he replies, calmly, and he lowers his sword and sheaths it. The cold aura that surrounds my sword vanishes as I sheath Vornalda.

* * *

The next day is spent just trying to kill time: climbing trees, shooting arrows, sharpening my blades, making more arrows, etc. Unfortunately, I get bored nearly to death by noon.

I groan, as I sit at the top of a tree facing the waterfall. "Why is there nothing to do here?"

"Maybe that is because you have a narrow mind, Sister," I hear a familiar voice say.

"Perhaps, Legolas, you may have just found the reason for all of the trouble I have caused back home," I say, and shift to see my twin standing down below me at the foot of the tree. "Like the time I caused a wave if snow come flooding through the gates one Hrivë (SL: winter). Or the time I chased a herd of deer right into our home when we were getting low on game."

Legolas smiles, which he doesn't do often, "And what about when you set a live snake in father's room, when he tried to make you wear a dress."

I laugh; I never wear women's clothes and mother (who died when I was young) never wore them either from my early memories. When father first tried to make me wear a dress one time, I had hated his guts and wouldn't rest until he was driven to his level of treachery. I had set a potentially deadly snake in his chambers and you could hear him scream like a girl all the way from the edge of the forest!

"I suppose that father will never forget that," Legolas says.

"Nor will he ever try to get me in a dress again," I reply. I climb down and stand next to him. "Let's go see if your archery still matches mine, brother," I say, holding up my bow, which I had carried up the tree with me, and walk over to the targets, where we could practice.

We each hit the center of the target with each arrow, but I struck my arrow in the same spot each time. The arrows were literally in pieces (with the exception of the last one, which didn't have a scratch upon it). "Well, that will be something to do, today," I comment on the broken arrows.

And that is what I end up doing for the rest of the day. By nightfall I have forty new arrows made and I still have ten from before, so I should have plenty of arrows, but if there will be a battle, I won't worry about that: I will just cleave my enemies with my sword.

I settle down to rest for the night as we leave for Mordor tomorrow. Even though elves don't need to sleep like men or dwarves or hobbits, I know that this will be a long, hard journey.


End file.
